Page 53 of Tame My Wild Touch


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Prudence smiled over the emphasis he placed on the word. He was being tactful. Actually, quite tactful, since he hadn't demanded she remain on board but rather requested she do so. "I won't venture off the boat, but I will gladly take the opportunity to explore the vessel."

"Be careful, and when our departure is announced, please make certain you return here to meet me."

Prudence walked over to the wooden railing bright with its new coat of white paint. She patted the top. "I'll meet you right here so we can watch Plattsmouth fade away."

"Is that an invitation?" Zac asked teasingly, though in truth he found the prospect of such a simple shared act appealing.

Prudence felt lighthearted and dreamy, emotions she rarely experienced. She allowed her defenses to drop and her heart to open, leaving herself vulnerable to the notorious gunslinger. "It's an invitation. Will you accept?"

Zac heard her doubt, felt her uneasiness, and knew this exposure of emotions was difficult for her. "I'd be delighted," he accepted, without hesitation and with a heartbreaking smile.

Prudence reached out and gently touched his arm. "I’ll be waiting"

Zac nodded and hurried off. His "Damn" was inaudible to anyone but himself, it was so low and harsh. Her touch had been soft, but it wasn't really the touch that disturbed him so. It was the fact that she had reached out to him at all. It hadn't taken long for him to realize she feared giving her love and trust and accepting it from another. She was cautious with those emotions and guarded them strongly, much too strongly. He assumed her mother's desertion of her at an early age had much to do with it. And he wondered just how difficult it would be for her to accept a man's love.

Prudence watched Zac disappear down the gangplank, anxious to inspect the room she would share with him. She turned and entered the cabin.

She left the door open to allow sufficient light to enter. There was no window, so the room was otherwise bathed in darkness. The quarters were small, and smelled of strong lye soap. There was a small chest of drawers, with an oval mirror above it on the wall. To the side of that sat the washstand, with the porcelain basin snug in its brass holder and the matching pitcher beneath snug in its holder. The bed, built into the wall, was narrow, more adequate for a single person than for two people. Pleased with the accommodations yet a bit apprehensive about the size of the bed, she left the room.

She walked along the upper deck, pressing flat against the wall several times to allow the crew members to pass with armloads of baggage. She easily took the steep steps to the lower level and strolled along there, watching the activity on the dock.

Lively piano music caught her attention, and she entered the open doors to her right and behind her. It was the dining salon. The large room was light and airy, since its doors and shutters were spread open wide. Round tables were decked out in pristine white linens, and a bowl of fresh daisies sat in the middle of each one. A long table covered in the same white linen cloth sat against the far wall, but where the others were empty, this one was not. Coffee, cider —which Prudence made a point of avoiding —muffins, breads, cakes, eggs, sausages, ham, and crystal jars filled with honey and jams lined the table.

Prudence served herself after watching the other passengers do the same. An elderly woman, Mrs. Hampton, joined her at one of the tables and they talked. Actually, Mrs. Hampton talked almost nonstop about her son and his family, whom she was going to visit.

Finishing the delicious food, she thought of Zac and wondered if he had eaten. Prudence politely excused herself and walked out onto the deck once again. She stood against the wooden railing, looking about for her husband. She saw him on shore and anxiously raised her hand to wave and draw his attention, when she suddenly realized he wasn't alone. She immediately dropped her hand.

The woman with him was attractive. She was blond and petite and, from the looks of it, ever so charming. Their conversation appeared lively. And Zac was smiling.

Jealous. The ugly thought reared its head, but she wondered if she was jealous of the woman and her appearance, or the fact that Zac seemed taken by her.

She wished she had had more experience with men and relationships. So often she thought herself foolish, but perhaps her feelings were commonplace and shared by many women. If only her mother had been there to guide her.

She noticed then that Zac had seen her; he was waving, quite strenuously. Her first thought was to turn her head and ignore him. But Prudence thought better of such a rash and improper action, waving and smiling instead.

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